


The Best Medicine

by Gingerwerk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comfort, Domestic, M/M, ron has the sniffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingerwerk/pseuds/Gingerwerk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron only requires one thing when he is feeling under the weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt written for anonymous :)

* * *

When Carwood pulled into the driveway after work he knew instantly that something was wrong. Nothing serious of course, but the fact that Ron’s car was already parked in the second spot in the garage meant that something unusual was happening; the base Ron worked at was on the other side of town and he usually wasn’t home until an hour after Lipton had arrived home from the school he taught at.

 

 _If it was something serious I would have gotten a call_ , Lipton told himself as he grabbed his briefcase off of the passenger’s seat of his car and exited the car.

 

When Carwood entered through the backdoor he was greeted, as per usual, by their King Charles spaniel, Lucy. Carwood smiled and crouched down to her level so that she could properly greet him.

 

“Hey girl,” Lipton chuckled as the dog licked at his face. “Do you know what daddy’s home so early?”

 

Lucy barked in answer; unfortunately Carwood was still not fluent in dog.

 

“Let’s go find him,” he said as he got back to his feet and walked across the sun room to the adjoining kitchen.  “Ron,” he called out as he set his briefcase on the kitchen counter and loosened his tie. “You home?”

 

When he received no answer, Carwood took off his jacket and hung it up on one of the kitchen table chairs before he walked down the hall, in search of his husband.

 

“Ron?” Carwood tried again as he walked into the living room, Lucy jogging along at his heals; it too was devoid of Ron. “Ron?”

 

“Up here,” Ron’s voice called softly from the floor above.

 

Carwood and Lucy jogged up the stairs and after a quick search, Lipton found Ron in the office, seated at the desk. Even with his back turned, Carwood could see why Ron had come home early today.

 

“Oh, Ron, you’re sick as a dog.”

 

“It’s just a cold, Carwood,” Ron corrected, his voice rough, while he continued to face the computer in front of him.

 

The level of his husband’s illness was obvious to Carwood the second he saw Ron’s attire; he was dressed in sweats, specifically, _Carwood’s_ sweats. Ron usually only wore sweats when he worked out and if he was working out, he wore _his_ army issue sweats, not the light green and white sweats that were leftovers from Carwood’s college days. Whenever Ron was sick, he looked for comfort and comfort for Ron always seemed to take the form of his husband’s hoodies and sweatpants.

 

“If it were just a cold, why would you be home so early?” Carwood asked as he slowly walked across the room.

 

“Training exercise,” Ron answered while he continued to type away at some report and failed to muffle a series of small coughs. “NCO’s are running the show. They don’t need me there to supervise.”

 

“And yet you yell at me when I pretend to be healthier than I actually am,” Lipton sighed before he gripped the top of the desk chair and forced his husband to face him.

 

“I’m fine,” Ron persisted.

 

“If this is fine, I don’t want to know what bad looks like,” Carwood said as he took in Ron’s appearance.

 

Ron’s usually neat brown hair was mused and damp with sweat. His completion was pale, except for his cheeks which were flushed pink with a fever. Ron’s green eyes, which were usually clear and sharp, looked unusually hazy and unfocused. Carwood reached out and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead; Ron closed his eyes at the comforting touch.

 

“You’re burning up,” Carwood stated. “You need to be in bed resting, not working on some report that can wait a day.”

 

“I’m fine, Car, I already took some cold medicine and water and I’m fine,” Ron insisted while Lipton gently grabbed his arm and pulled him into a standing position; once Ron was upright, however, he began to sway on his unsteady feet. Lipton pressed a steadying had to his chest.

 

“See, you are sick,” Carwood said firmly before he wrapped an arm around Ron’s back and began leading him towards the door. “Let’s get you into bed. You’ll get better quicker if you’re rested.”

 

Knowing that arguing would get him nowhere except the doghouse, Ron complied and let Lipton lead him down the hall and tuck him into their bed. He couldn’t stop the sigh that came out of his mouth once his back hit the soft top of the mattress.

 

“See? Isn’t that better?” Carwood asked with a smile as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you hungry? I could make you something.”

 

“No. I’m not hungry,” Ron answered as he adjusted the blankets around him to his liking.

 

“Do you need anything?”

 

“Yeah, you,” Ron responded honestly, which caused Lipton to smile. “I just want you to stay here with me. If you don’t have anything more important to do that is.”

 

“You are the most important thing in my life,” Carwood said before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ron’s warm forehead. “Just let me change my clothes and I’ll be right back.”

 

Once Carwood changed out of his suit and into a pair of pajama pants and a worn t-shirt, he settled onto his side of the bed, back pressed against the headboard. A moment later, Ron adjusted his position so that his head rested on Lipton’s lap. Carwood placed his hand on top of Ron’s head and ran his fingers through Ron’s slightly damp hair; he smiled when he heard the small content sigh escape Ron’s mouth.

 

“Thank you,” Ron said before he broke out into a series of rough coughs; Carwood moved his free hand to gentle rub Ron’s back. Once the coughs subsided, Ron made a noise of displeasure and curled closer to his husband.

 

“I know this isn’t fun,” Carwood said sympathetically while he massaged circles into Ron’s scalp, “but try to get some rest. You’ll feel better when you wake up. Promise.”

 

Ron fought against the sensation of sleep for one more moment so that he could crack open an eye and look up at Carwood.

 

“I’m feeling better already.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated


End file.
